LATE: Light at the End of the Tunnel
by Sabubu
Summary: Though they walk through the darkness of terror and tragedy there is a light at the end of the tunnel; a promise of safety that will lead them to hope and give them strength to kill every sonuvabitch that gets in their way.
1. chapter one

**chapter one**

The day the Infection hit, no one was ready for it. People all over were just minding their own business while somewhere, in a hospital for civilians, a man was coughing up blood and wriggling with cold sweats and moaning in pain. Doctors and nurses tried their best to comfort him, but more and more people were coming in with the same symptoms. No one knew what it was or how it started, but the Infection hit with a nuclear wave, spreading rapidly through the masses like a wildfire, quenched only when every last person rose from the dead and turned into deadly creatures.

Chaos rang throughout every city. In some, even the survivors were lined up and shot, deemed too dangerous as they had been exposed to the Infection and became carriers. In others, the lucky met their own bullets as everything swarmed with the undead. Anyone left in the mess hoped and prayed that there was salvation in the broadcasted messages on the airwaves; the skeptics kept to their weapons and looked for anywhere safe, taking down any monsters that stood in their way, human or other.

Emily Ellison, on that day, had been minding her own business in her living room. The week was free of college work because she had finished a huge essay for her recent creative writing class. Clad in shorts, a tank top, and slippers, was working on her netbook while wiping sweat from her brow. Upon her nose was a pair of reading glasses as she had found out a month before that her eyesight was going down the drain, a curse that ran through her family. On her ears, she had a pair of purple stereo headphones. Her fingers tapped away on the keys, spilling her imagination into the document on the screen.

It started with a loud crash outside the front door of her small apartment. It startled her to the point her glasses flew off her face and _clack_, onto the floor. After setting her computer aside, she muttered and fumbled for her glasses. There was another crash, followed by a scream, so she gave up her search (the room was dark as the blinds were shut) and went to see what the entire ruckus was about. She threw open the door after unlatching the lock, and poked her head out the doorway. The potted plant she had set out for looks was spilled onto the dark red carpet and smashed to pieces, the flowers stomped all over. Whoever had screamed was gone, probably continued running to and down the stairs at the end of the hall. Emily looked the other way, up the hallway, but there was no one there. Brow furrowed, she blew her bangs out of her eyes and closed her door again. They were probably drunk, despite it being three in the afternoon.

She slumped onto the couch where she had been before and grabbed the remote for the TV. Light from the screen filled the room enough for her to locate her glasses, which she picked up and put back on her face. The channel, normally showing cartoons, was gray with a marquee moving across the bottom. She stopped reaching for her netbook and took the glasses off again, staring at the television.

"_Alert? For what?"_ she thought.

"Please report anyone with these symptoms to the police. Stay inside your home and stay away from the sick. Wait for official instruction; help is on the way." Her brow furrowed more. Her day had been reclusive, nothing suspicious going on besides the broken flowerpot, so what was with the alert on every channel? She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and opened her contacts, typing in an A for Akiko: her closest friend. It rang a few times, but then it cut to voicemail.

"_Either she can't talk, or there's something wrong with her phone."_ She shut her phone and crossed her arms, feeling uneasy. The pit of her stomach writhed with nausea and eventually she could not stand it anymore. She stood again and ran to her bedroom. She kicked off her slippers before putting on a t-shirt over her tank top. After flopping onto her bed, she pulled on dark tan stockings and her tennis shoes. When she was fully dressed, her phone rang out in her pocket, making her jump a foot in the air. Moving quickly, she pulled it out and answered, her voice squeaky.

"Dad?"

Static cut in and out her father's voice, but she could clearly hear the fear in his voice.

"_Emily…love you…"_

"Daddy?"

"_Get out…disease… won't believe…"_

"Daddy?"

"_**Zombies**__!"_ There was yelling and screaming behind his words. The white noise of interference faded long enough for a terrible roar to shake her very core, and then the call to her only family was lost. She stared at the wall, phone still pressed to her ear, her mind blank. A few minutes passed and her hand finally fell to her side.

"_Z-zombies? …That's impossible."_

"It's just a stupid prank… Dad's okay," she told herself. But the words sounded foreign and hollow to her own ears. Another minute passed before she gathered herself the best she could and stumbled to her closet. Peering through the dim light, she made out a vague outline and grabbed for it. Her fingers curled around the handle of her steel baseball bat, the one she used to use when she played ball with her father. Emily paused, staring at the end of it with her teeth digging into her bottom lip. The pain kept her in reality long enough to realize she had to get going. Anyone who had even a little knowledge of movies knew that staying inside was not an option unless you had the perfect set up. A tiny apartment near town square was _not_ the perfect setup. For now, she would go out and find other people, hopefully Akiko or another friend, because there was no way she would last alone. Wiping her eyes with the back of her free hand, she stuffed her netbook and its charger, a flashlight, and a couple other things into it, including a small photo album, into a backpack. With her load light enough, she swung her bag over her shoulder and went to the front door to peek outside. Still no one, so she exited her home and headed to the stairs.

With her heart beating painfully in her chest and no idea what to expect, she went towards the horrifying adventure that awaited her and the six others that would follow her.

* * *

**Changed some description. Simplified Emily. It's hard not to want to paint a perfect picture of characters… But I'm going trying to give everyone the same treatment. OTL – Sabu [December 20, 2012]**


	2. chapter two

**chapter two**

The screeching grew louder as she ran out of the shady alleyway she had decided to use as a shortcut. Rapid sounds of footsteps followed closely behind, but she did not dare to turn around and see what hunted her. Besides, she already knew what it was, or rather, had a dreadful feeling what it was. Although fresh, they already started to smell; it was a stench so strong it only took your nose to spot one a mile away. Now out in the street, it was easier to see the chaos that was erupting everywhere. Other people did not fare well against the things that ran amok, most of them being caught and dragged to the ground then torn apart by hands and teeth. She had to keep her sights straight ahead and her ears closed to the echoing screams of the soon-to-be-dead. Zombies, freaking zombies ran around like a parade, hordes on top of hordes running out of homes and every dark corner to catch whoever was left breathing.

Fiona Adler willed the pain in her feet, not well supported in her old tennis shoes, to stop because it was making her stumble in her escape from the undead. The rather new skillet in her hand began to feel heavier as her knuckles turned white around it. When one of the zombies behind her grabbed the hood of her gray jacket and yanked her back, she flailed a little but instinctively lifted the skillet and swung her whole arm as fast and hard as she could. It vibrated with a shrill _TWANG_ as it collided with the zombie's head. She steadied her footing and swung at the other one. This time she missed and stumbled.

"Shit!" She hit the ground, dirtying the knees of her worn, blue jeans and getting blood on her rolled up sleeves. She swung her arm again, the skillet bouncing off its skull. It dropped like the first so she scrambled to her feet and moved on without waiting. Behind her, already there were many more coming to pick up the slack. In the distance, she could hear rapid gunfire and shouting, the sounds of the officials taking in the living. Evacuation was taking place and the sounds signaled to her that she was close to the evacuation point they had been talking about on the television. Minutes ago, she was just minding her own business when an alert came on every channel. Now she was running for her life from things that should only exist in video games or movies.

She skidded into another alley, the sounds of gunfire and shouting being louder on the other side of all the buildings, and reached the end where her hope faltered for a second. Instead of men with big guns and Kevlar outfits, there were four normal-looking people shooting the brains out of anything that came at them. There was no time to study them; she waved and called to them so they would not mistake her as one of the monsters.

"Hey! Over here!"

"Fiona!" She jumped at her own name being called and turned around. On the other end of the alley was her friend, Emily. She was swinging her baseball bat like an axe at the mass of undead grasping and screaming for her. They gnashed their teeth and clawed at her clothes, but she managed to wiggle free and fall farther into the ally. Fear shot through her, the adrenaline spread to her legs, and she zipped through. She smacked one that reached for Emily, the poor girl crawling towards safety as fast as she could, and dropped it easily. But two more, then three followed suit. Fiona turned and pulled Emily to her feet to drag her back to the strangers with better weapons. Emily accidentally dropped her bat in the mess of things and clung to Fiona's arm to stop her own legs from giving out under her.

"Hey! Help!" One of the strangers, less preoccupied with shooting zombies, turned to them as the two girls scrambled over, a train of undead behind them. He was a larger black man who wore the colors of a school nearby and he carried his axe and pistol with dignity; he seemed to have some sort of authority, shown in just his stance.

"Watch yer backs!" he called, shooting behind them. The others noticed immediately there were two more survivors and helped cover the girls' back. The pack was thinned out quickly, but not before Fiona could get in a couple more good swings.

The other African American of the group was a young woman. She ran over and helped Emily up as she had tripped again, "Come on, Sweetie, no time to lie down." Emily accepted the help and forced herself to her feet, quickly realizing she dropped her bat. The woman handed her one of her pistols as she was carrying two, and patted Emily's shoulder as a "good luck."

"Great, baggage," said one cynical man, but Emily ignored it and fell back against Fiona so they could cover each other. It seemed there was no evacuation now and they were on their own, well, with a group of total strangers.

"Helicopter on the hotel!" Fiona turned to the young man shouting; he had a familiar southern accent that matched her own. He was pointing up to motion to everybody.

"The goddamn evac-point is on the roof!" the black man said, sounding appalled at the endless stupidity of CEDA, "We better get a move on!" Everyone agreed wholeheartedly and started towards the hotel as fast as they could. There were copters already leaving, so they had to hurry. Emily held Fiona's free hand tightly and shot at anything she could. She had shot guns before, but still did not have the self-confidence to use them, making her fumble when it came to anything but pointing and shooting.

The leader, the confident man who probably worked in the school, kicked down the door to the stairway once they were inside, then the southern boy helped Fiona block it by fastening her skillet in the handle. It shook with undead pounding on the other side to follow them.

"It won't hold long, we should hurry," she said matter-of-factly. The southern boy nodded and led the way up the stairs. Emily stuck close while the two other men, visibly older than all of them, hang back. About ten stories up, they fell behind more, rather out of breath. A few more flights up, and they were panting and lagging even more.

"Who the hell…puts an evac station…up thirty flights of goddamn stairs," the black man said, rolling his eyes and stopping to catch his breath. The others continued, heading to the roof as quickly as they could.

"Come on, Coach. Maybe the helicopter—maybe it's made of chocolate." The cynical man in the white suit laughed tiredly as he continued. The man, Coach was his name, rolled his eyes and made a face to show he was not amused. Eventually, they caught up to the young ones only to see a less-than-welcome sight.

"This is not happening…" the woman, Rochelle, continued to mutter to herself. The southern boy, Ellis, took off his greasy cap and ran his hands through his hair while Fiona let Emily hit her knees from all kinds of exhaustion. He called out, his voice echoing, for anyone. But they were alone.

All around them, helicopters were flying off into the sunset, promptly leaving them all alone on the rooftop of an overrun, zombie-infested hotel.

"Aren't they supposed to be saving our asses?" Coach asked no one angrily. It probably took a lot of willpower not to shoot at them as they flew away. Nick, the man in the expensive-looking white suit, hunched over to regain his breath and then looked up at their way out leaving.

"Looks like there's been a change of plans…"

"Jesus…" Fiona mumbled, absentmindedly petting her friend's dark brown hair. Now that they finally had a break, she looked at their new companions, suddenly incredibly grateful. Without them, she had no idea where she and Emily would be, certainly not alive on a roof. Emily reached up and grabbed Fiona's wrist, making her look down at her with a quizzical look. There was fear in her eyes, almost pleading.

"Wh-what now, Fi?" She was lost and depended on Fiona to lead the way. Fiona was always very levelheaded while Emily often let her emotions take the better of her, that and her strange obsession with looking for the silver lining of every person and thing. Fiona smiled warmly down at her, attempting to soothe her nerves since she had no ideas that would be of any comfort.

"Looks like we gotta find our own way," Ellis said, sounding a lot more cheerful that he should. Emily bit her lip and stood up again, brushing off her knees before rubbing at her eyes, which began to shine.

"I heard there was an evacuation station at the mall..." she said, just loud enough for them all to hear.

"We should hurry then," Rochelle added, recovered from the frustration of missing their ride, "before _they _ditch us too."

"Hey look, over here!" Ellis took their attention and directed it to weapons left behind by the ones from the helicopter. There was a couple of axes, a few pistols, first aid kits, and a single bottle of pain pills. Immediately, everyone dove in and grabbed what they needed, replacing empty guns or whatever else. Fiona, having ditched her skillet, grabbed a pistol and then handed another to Emily, flashing the nervous-wreck-of-a-girl another smile. Emily did not return it, but took the gun and touched Fiona's upper arm to show thanks.

"Back through the hotel then," Nick said exasperatedly, shouldering the axe he picked up. Rochelle handed the last pistol to Ellis and took up the other axe.

"What's your name?" Coach, still holding the same axe he had before, asked Emily.

"Emily," she said quietly.

"Well, Emily," Ellis came up beside her and put the first aid kid in her free hand, "Yer on first aid duty." She blinked once; looking confused, but then figured she did not come off as a gun-toting badass. It did not help her self-esteem, but hell, her hands would not stop shaking long enough to shoot even stationary objects. She nodded to show she comprehended her position. Fiona's lips tilted with some irritation, but figured it was best that way, even when Emily handed her pistol back to her.

"I'll stay close," she promised.

"Come on, let's go," Coach said to everyone, "Don't wanna miss our ride again."

Ellis kicked open the door to the stairway and led the way for them, guns out and ready to shoot anything that crossed their path.

* * *

**Fixed some things here. Mainly just adjusting the inventory of everyone. - [Updated July 17, 2012] Sabu**

**More things fixed. Not much tho. – Sabu [Updated December 20, 2012]**


	3. chapter three

**chapter three**

The hotel was dim inside, the only light coming from the windows. The ceilings danced with smoke, a fire no doubt blazing somewhere. But for now, it was the undead Emily worried about. She hugged the first aid pack tightly to her chest, eyes darting around with justified paranoia. She stayed with Fiona and Rochelle towards the back of their train, prepared for almost anything. It was quiet for a moment, then gunfire echoed off the walls, mingling with the howl of an oncoming horde.

"Shit," Nick hissed. Their bullets dropped the zombies a foot ahead of them, the flashes from their pistols appearing and disappearing on the walls like strobe lights. More red poured onto everything as the infected continued to run for them, met with a shower of bullets that screamed through the air and made their chests or faces explode all over the walls and floor. The last corpse ceased to move as the new lake of blood slowly expanded over the carpet.

"Keep moving, and check the rooms," Coach instructed, motioning to doors left ajar. His brow was furrowed. Ellis and he split off to check a room, followed by more gunshots. Rochelle followed Nick into another.

"'Nother kit here, Emily." Coach returned with a red box, droplets of blood on his arms and shirt. He handed it to her, chuckling a little when she took it with a squeamish expression and matching sound. Fiona stayed near her friend with her guns at the ready, eyes staring down the hallway on the look for anything sneaking up on them.

"Hey!" Ellis called to them, "This way!" The two girls joined them.

Each room they entered, having to weave to get through obstructions in the hallway, had from three to ten zombies wandering or staring at corners. Their eyes were empty until they took notice; they would grow red with hunger and outrage, as though the survivors were the ones who did not belong in the new world. Their clothes were tattered and some of them had missing limbs or gaping holes. Blood stained the walls and floor, flesh and human debris sprinkled the ground. Emily covered her mouth with her hand and shut her eyes for a moment. Her vision swam and her stomach tightened.

"You okay, Kiddo?" white-suit Nick asked while Coach pulled his axe out of a still-twitching zombie. She reopened her eyes, her blush returning some color to her paled face. Everyone was staring at her, mostly worried she would faint, after all this stuff was not like the movies; it was real.

"I'm fine," she assured, embarrassed to seem so frail. Maybe they were skeptic, but there was not enough time to second-guess. The hallway roared and shook just as they stepped out. From the far end, from around the corner, a huge horde of charging infected came at them.

"Watch out!" Coach yelled. Everyone raised their weapons as Emily stood behind them. The infected crashed into them like a tidal wave, clawing and biting at them. Gunfire rang out and bullets flew; their ears chimed with a high-pitched whining. It seemed like the wave would last forever, one after the other reaching for their flesh only to be shot in the face and put to rest. Rochelle killed the last zombie. As it hit the floor, everyone remained tense and watchful, eyes watching the rooms and down the hallway. There was always the chance more would come and try to ambush them, not that it was easy to do-they seemed to be way too noisy for that, always alerting others to their presence. No, it was not these common infected the survivors had to worry about...

Continuing a little more, they came across a conference room that was still intact, besides a few overturned chairs and canvas boards. After Ellis cleared the handful of zombies with ease, Emily picked up one of the boards and rested the bottom against her gut to keep it up as to read it.

"**Boomer**," she read, catching attention, "Hey! Look at this." She flipped it for the others to read as well.

"That's one _healthy_ sonuvabitch," Nick mused. In the corner was a picture of what used to be a man. Now he was a fat, grotesque monster with dead skin and huge boils on its face and arms.

"Says here they vomit bile that attracts undead in the vicinity," Rochelle pointed out. A light went on in Ellis' face and he pulled out a biohazard jar with a neon green liquid inside, mixed with unidentified chunks. Everyone quickly moved away from him with surprise and terror, like a dog had picked up a dead thing off the street.

"That must be what's in this 'ere jar!"

"I-is that a bottle of puke?" Nick asked rhetorically. Everyone shared a look of disgust, glancing between each other before staring at the bottle again.

"A jar is no place for bodily functions..." Ellis said to himself, staring at the bile in his hand.

"Oh," Rochelle thought aloud, "That stuff attracts the infected, so if we throw that jar, it'll make them run to it instead of us."

Fiona smiled, "Super useful, ain't it?" She reached over and took it from Ellis, giving it a single toss into the air and directly back into her hand. Ellis seemed perfectly fine with not having to carry the disgusting Boomer vomit. Emily dropped the board and looked over the table as she walked closer to it. Coach appeared at her side, looking over the maps on the tables. They were blown up into huge posters and marked with many different colors. Scattered across them were graphs for distinct purposes, some of them pie charts and some of them point graphs. Coach hovered over a map of the United States in deep thought before pointing at a lower corner.

"According to his map, it looks like N'awlins is our best bet for getting out alive. Seems to be the last city standing."

Nick rolled his eyes, switching his weight to the other leg, "Seriously? This mythical evac station at the mall," Emily blushed, "probably isn't going to work out and now we have to go all that way? This is ridiculous."

"Aw, don't be such a stick in the mud, man," Ellis said, patting the man on the back. Nick's shoulder lurched forward every time the hick's hand slapped him and he began to look even less amused. Emily and Fiona laughed at him, quietly enough to go unnoticed.

"Let's head to the mall anyway," Rochelle said, "Even if we miss them, we can at least get supplies and figure things out from there." It seemed like a good idea, so they readied their weapons.

So it was New Orleans then. But first, they had to reach and maneuver the mall for supplies and a plan.

* * *

"Dammit! The elevators out! Just another thing on my damn list!" Nick kicked the wall with frustration while Emily peeked around the corner down an unexplored hallway. Smoke covered the ceiling, filling in from one of the rooms as a fire blazed somewhere. She glanced back at the others, mouth open slightly in thought.

"This way. We can go down the stairs and see if the other elevators work."

Just then was a fiery explosion behind her, sending huge chunks of wall through the windows and piling onto the floor. The impact sent her flailing forwards, yelping as her feet lifted off the ground. She sprawled out on the floor with a painful sounding _thud_ but Fiona was immediately at her side to help her up. She grabbed her head to stop the ringing while Fiona steadied her so she would not fall over again.

Ellis jogged over to the two girls and touched Emily between the shoulder blades, "You alright there, Em?" She looked at him and nodded, still flinching and uneasy. She was going to be sore after that. Fiona brushed the dust off her clothes. Ellis looked back at the others, also watching to make sure everything was okay and motioned to the new obstruction. "It's blocked. We gotta take a shortcut through these rooms and take the stairway." The smell of smoke from the hallway followed them into the next hotel room.

There were no zombies yet, thankfully, but they did have to go out on the ledge. Dread fell over Fiona's face for a brief moment but then she swallowed the fear and followed them out the window, mumbling orders to herself to, "not look down." Her grip on Emily's hand tightened and remained even when they jumped down from the windowsill to the floor of the next room. It worked like a charm, putting them right beside the stairs. Despite the success, Fiona silently vowed to never to that again.

Coach opened the door to the concrete stairwell and led the way again, smashing two zombie heads with his axe, grunting with each swing.

When they opened the door one floor down, a horde came right away. Turned out this floor was full of them, all hungry and all fully alert for fresh meat. Emily stumbled backwards while the others stood in the doorway, smashing and shooting zombies that were much too close for comfort. Blood sprayed on the floor, walls, and their clothes. When the onslaught was over, Nick looked down at his once-nice, expensive looking suit and griped like usual. No one paid him any mind, simply moving on towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. The smoke was much more abundant on this floor, meaning they were almost to the main fire and the main floor: their way out, in other words.

Across from the elevators was a huge lobby. Two zombies stood out, Ellis noticed, so he motioned to them with a slight frown. They both wore bright yellow suits with clear windows on their helmets to show their faces, blood running out of their mouths in an almost constant stream. Their eyes intensified once they took notice of the survivors.

"They're fire proof!" he warned. That meant they would thrive especially on the floor below them where the fire was. There was no telling how many of them there was, but they would have a fun time whacking CEDA losers, what with all the help they had been so far. Nick shot one just as it started at them and shattered their mask before they crumpled to the dirty floor. Another bright green jar fell from the zombie's belt and rolled across the room, stopping at the feet of a fresher infected. Everyone sprayed bullets into the room to kill the infected as they came at them. The other CEDA agent dropped when Ellis shot him with his pistols a few times in the chest and once again, a bile jar fell at Ellis' feet, looking up at him with knowing smirk.

"Neat!" He picked it up for future use, unable to ignore how useful and plain awesome it was. He turned to Fiona who stood closest to him and grinned, holding his new jar up. "How many times do ya get to throw _puke_?"

"There's probably a ton more outside this place, so we should save these," Fiona said to him, flashing her own jar of puke. The man-child was completely right.

"Come on! This one's workin'," Coach called to the two, standing with the others in the only working elevator. He had his finger hovering over the button, waiting patiently. Fiona and Ellis jogged over before the door shut tightly behind them. Coach went ahead and pushed the button before leaning back against the wall with a semi-relieved sigh. They were almost out of the hotel at least, meaning things were partly over.

"So..." Ellis started. Nick rolled his eyes as Rochelle spoke for Ellis, knowing exactly what he wanted.

"My name is Rochelle," she said, facing everyone, "I was working with a news crew to cover this story when the shit hit the fan."

"Coach," added the older black man, "People call me Coach."

"My name is Ellis. Some of my friends call me Ell, but y'all can call me Ellis on a counta Ell sounds like a girl's name," Ellis gave a sheepish chuckle, "I own an auto-shop on the other side of town. Er... owned." Fiona's mouth dropped.

"Hey, that's where I know ya from! You were fixin' my truck!" She blushed when everyone stared at her but then smiled and gave a little wave. "It's Fiona."

"Damn, yer right!" Ellis continued, grinning about the coincidence, "Man, if I had known, I woulda fixed her up nice and turned her into a zombie mower! Ah man, that reminds me of this time my buddy Keith and I were riding lawn mowers an-"

"Ellis, Sweetie, now isn't the best time for that," Rochelle said politely, putting her hands up to stop the hick from rambling. Ellis said, "Okay." Then everyone turned to the silent Nick who stood in the back to avoid notice. He frowned for a moment but then smirked.

"Got a name?" Fiona asked, not amused about his attitude. She crossed her arms.

"It's Nick. But don't bother remembering it; I won't be around long." No one took him that seriously. Coach turned to Emily.

"Em, right?"

"E-Emily." Fiona smiled and put her hand on her friend's shoulder. Then, the elevator jolted and halted, almost putting everyone on his or her ass. It was stuck, but hopefully not indefinitely. Someone muttered an angry curse as Coach tried to pry the doors open. Ellis helped, struggling until they were fully open. Thankfully, it had reached the ground floor. Unfortunately, smoke spilled in with intense heat. The entire floor was on fire.

Great.

As they stepped out, the flames roared around them and smoke made their eyes water and blur. Everyone coughed and choked. Over the screaming inferno from Hell and the hacking coughs, Coach waved his arm for the others to follow, practically flailing to be seen through the haze and red glare. They stuck close and ran down the hall that was full of burning corpses, most probably infected that were too stupid and brain-dead to sense danger and had walked through the fire only to ignite and burn up quickly. There was a twang of death mixed in the smoke and it burned all the way down, making it even harder to breathe. Ceiling debris suddenly fell into their path and they dove into a room to get around it. Against one of the walls was a gun locker, left open by people who either left in a hurry or turned into zombies. Since only one shotgun remained, Coach claimed it and handed his axe off to Emily to hold in case someone needed a backup weapon. After a brief inspection of his new firearm, he snatched up some shells and continued to lead the way.

"Through the kitchen!" Nick offered, indicating to a door just down the hall. With it being their only chance, they ran in, jumped over an aluminum table, and turned the corner. "Fireproof Bastard!" One of the leftover CEDA agents darted at them, arms outstretched and eyes glaring. Coach took aim and blasted its face out the back of its head with one shot. When it fell onto its back after flying through the air a few feet, zombies that had somehow avoided the fire followed up the attack. There was only a few, so Rochelle and Fiona took them out. The bodies crumpled on the tile floor in a pile, mouths agape and absolutely no life left in them.

"This way! I can see the fire exit lights!" Emily had gone ahead a little once the infected were down and was pointing to the end of the dining hall. When they caught up, Fiona grabbed her arm and gave a meaningful look. Em looked apologetic.

They stumbled into the open waiting room. Sunlight flooded in from the skylight and tile gleamed under dirt and rubble from the crumbling walls. Infected gave them no chance to free their lungs from smoke, so they hacked and coughed and slashed towards an open safe room, an idea implemented to keep the sick out, or at least from using the front door. It was a failed plan, obviously. Behind them was a trail of dead bodies, straight out of a nightmare.

As they passed the intersecting hallway, something equivalent to a rhinoceros charged them at full force. Its thick, bulky arm reached and grabbed the closest survivor, Ellis, in its massive hand and crashed into the wall, knocking everyone else over like bowling pins. Ellis cried out as the monster smashed him into the floor.

"Git 'im off!" Coach shot it in its disgusting, greenish-gray shoulder, still on the ground as he was too distracted to get up again. Not to mention the blow had shocked him. Poor Ellis yelled again, but Fiona managed to scramble up to shoot it point blank in the head. The hand released him as it shook the floor after crumpling to the ground. He landed with an _oof_ and rolled onto his side while gasping for breath and stability. Rochelle helped him up as he winced, rubbing his aching back and ribs. More infected were coming, warning them with shrieks and hollering, so they limped to the safe room and collapsed into it.

Emily dropped the axe and went to help Nick and Coach block the door with boxes full of papers and a heavy shelf, but then went to make sure Ellis was okay. He was lying on the floor, still out of breath.

"What… was that?" Fiona panted, recovering from a coughing fit.

Emily approved Ellis for moving around again as he was just bruised, and then turned to the others. "**Charger**?" Nick scoffed, not impressed by such a dumb name, "One of those reports was about "Special Infected." A Charger was listed there I think."

"So there are _more_ of those things?" Ellis groaned and sat up with a little difficult, "Oh, great. I don't think my spine can take any more of that." Emily smiled sympathetically and rubbed his back for comfort.

"So it'd be best to kill those first then," Coach said matter-of-factly. Everyone agreed, and then collapsed on the floor with exhaustion.

"Y'all did good out there," Coach added, "_Real_ good."

"Let's see if we can do better," Nick grumbled. Emily frowned but kept her mouth shut.

* * *

**Made some tiny changes. Nothing that huge really; just improving my sentences and some more inventory fixes. - [Updated July 17, 2012] Sabu**


	4. chapter four

**chapter four**

The sun outside blazed in through the bars of the safe room's exit. The entrance on the other side of the room had gone silent a few minutes before as the Infected stopped pounding and went off in boredom, finding the safe room was not going to open for them. The survivors sat on the floor in silence, out of breath and recuperating after all the commotion. Neither a bird chirped nor a squirrel scampered into the open in the ten minutes it took for them to gather their wits. Once, Emily glanced outside, having stood to stretch her legs, in time to see a tomcat stop beside a CEDA tent. It looked back at her, slit pupils drilling into her eyes, looking through her. She thought for a moment that cats would survive. They would survive and sneak around, seeing the world no differently as their eyes already saw Hell in the physical world. The cat blinked once, twice, and then ran off. Something about the brief meeting unnerved her. To make the collective tension worse, there was a maniacal laughter echoing from somewhere in the distance. It would fade in and out, closer then farther, but never died away. Eventually, Nick sighed with exasperation and huffed, reminding Emily of a cat bristling his fur with annoyance.

"I really wish that thing would shut up,"

Cats would survive. Emily shook her head but no one noticed.

"Calm down, Nick," Ellis said, chuckling a little, "We gotta stay calm." Nick scowled and ignored the advice. _How_ could he relax with damned zombies wandering around just on the other side of the walls? Rochelle had shot a couple strays that came too close to the door. Sure, the bars would hold, but there was no use in attracting attention from the waiting hordes outside.

"We better get going," Coach said. He stood with a little bit of difficulty, grunting as he pushed himself to his feet. "Don't wanna miss our ride, now do we?" The others followed his example, brushing off bums or wandering to the counter. Behind it was another metal gun case, wide open like the one before, but it only had some spare ammo for their pistols and a couple shells for the shotgun. There was also a frying pan sitting on the counter, probably ditched for something better in all the rush. Ellis got to his feet and rubbed his side, sore from the Charger's attack.

"We're gonna need more weapons," Nick stated, checking his pistol and making sure it had enough ammo.

"I know Savannah like the back of my hand," Ellis declared, "There's a gun store we can stop by to get ourselves some real weapons, and it ain't far from here."

"Sounds good to me. I guess living here's finally paying off." Nick stopped fiddling and smirked. Coach shut the barrel of his shotgun and looked up with disdain, not amused with Nick's reaction.

"Mister, I don't think I like your attitude," he said.

Nick shrugged. "Whatever."

Emily snatched up her axe and walked over to the door again, peering out to check for a horde. The coast was clear, so she waited for the others. Fiona stood beside her, guns in hand and worry on her face.

"Are you okay, Emily?" she asked. Emily ran her free hand's fingers through her bangs, stopping to fiddle with an orange bit she had dyed a few weeks before. The axe hung at her side while she turned to her friend. She looked sad, startling Fi.

"I'm fine," she spoke quietly, keeping her problems from Ro and Ellis who stood a few feet away, "I just...really want to get outta here. I'm worried about everyone." Rochelle overheard and closed in on the pair with a sympathetic expression.

"Hey," she said softly, "We'll get to that mall and then we'll be safe. Just hold out a little longer. Besides, I'm sure whoever you're worried about is just fine." Emily nodded, swallowing her doubt. Yes, the plan would work out and she refused to think differently. Fiona on the other hand simply patted her back and avoided any eye contact. Nick and Coach, both who refused to stand near the other—came over as well.

"Alright," Coach said, "You all ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Ro mumbled.

"Ellis, lead the way to the gun store," Coach instructed. The young hick took lead with Ro and Coach beside him. Then Fi stood with Emily while Nick took up the rear to watch their backs. With everyone in agreement, Ellis lifted the reinforcement bar and shoved the heavy door open. It swung open silently as they stepped out into the daylight.

Once outside, they all turned to the left as a shriek rang out, echoing off the tank of a semi that had parked on the concrete hill. The side of the building was overshadowed by an awning and patrolled by a small group of zombies. They had taken notice of them almost instantly and tried to get them, but Fiona and Rochelle took them out before they took more than two hungry steps. The cackling in the distance was drowned out by a new horde, closing in from up the hill and from around the truck.

"We oughta hurry!" Ellis said. They moved up the hill and stopped at the street. Some of the horde was spilling over a tilting chain link fence while some more were coming from inside and behind the CEDA tent. One of them was wearing a hazmat suit and snarling behind the plastic face cover. Attached to his hip, just like the others they had encountered, was a jar of Boomer vomit. Zombies scrambled after them. Shots rang out again, axes swung at rotting scalps, and Emily watched from behind the group to make sure nothing snuck up on them. The attack was easily controlled, until Nick's pistol made a gentle _click_.

"Shit," he grumbled, sticking the gun into the holster on his thigh before wielding the axe and leaving his position in the rear. More undead seemed to swarm from out of nowhere, crawling over the hedges that lined the street across the way. The survivors pushed on the crowd with all their might. They knew that there was no use trying to get to the CEDA tent to check for supplies, so they had to keep going. More Common surrounded them, closing in behind them as they tried to run. Suddenly, it did not seem so easy.

"We can't kill them all!" Coach exclaimed, sounding worried, "Head down the hill! I see a door into that building; we can barricade that!" Nick returned to the rear when the CEDA zombie reached for the unprepared Emily. Fiona had her back turned for just a moment to shove another nasty-face away from her.

"Gah!" Emily yelped when it seized her elbow with a surprisingly strong grip. Nick grunted and swung his axe, but it just barely missed its mark. Instead, the momentum knocked the zombie onto its side and Emily stumbled forward, caught by Fiona who had shot the other in the face. The dead CEDA agent hit the concrete with a sickening crack, and then there was another sound.

"Run!" Fiona turned and yelled to the others. Ellis and Rochelle glanced back after killing a few, and then alarm spread over their faces. Green fluid pooled out around the fallen Infected and thick smog of green fumes rose up from it. Everything in the immediate vicinity of the spill roared and lunged at them, but already the human's ran for safety at the base of the hill. More zombies ran up the street on the left side of an island that broke the street into two sides. The right side, the one they needed, was clear so they took their chance to book it for the building. Half way there, Emily slowed to a stop, thus stopping Fiona and Nick with her. She looked back at the fog of vomit mist with awe and surprise.

"They don't even notice us," she observed idly.

"So the puke works. Awesome," Nick grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards the others, "No time to waste, Honey." Just then, the smog faded and dispersed in a breeze and the zombies stopped attacking air, looking around at each other with confusion. The stream of Infected had stopped and the street was filled like a rock concert. For a moment, neither the alive nor the dead moved, unsure of what exactly was going on or what to do next.

"Come on…" Nick kept his voice quiet and his eyes on the unaware undead, but gently pulled Emily away with him.

Fiona did the same, jaw clenched, "Come on, keep moving."

One of the undead looked over with glowing yellow eyes. The one glance sparked a growl and the one growl was all it took to get Emily moving. The lagging three joined the others and they bolted for the door that was now only a few yards away.

"Get inside! Get inside!" Ellis rushed and ushered everyone in.

The Infected caught up easily, but Ellis and Coach were already inside. Rochelle shot and axed a few and collapsed inside after them. Then Fiona and Emily got inside, moving to the side with their backs to the wall and their chests heaving. Nick yanked his axe out of one and stepped backwards into the building. A few more reached inside for their flesh, but Ellis and Coach slammed the metal door shut on their limbs. However, the door still shook as the force on the other side pounded and pushed on it, reaching in and clawing at their faces.

Rochelle looked around the dark room for something to use, but there seemed to be nothing useful. She silently griped and turned back to the door with irritation. The annoyance dissipated when the eerie green attached to Ellis' hip caught her attention and a brilliant idea popped into her head.

"Ellis, use your puke!" she ordered. The hick paused, not sure of why she wanted him to do it, but his mind connected with her genius light bulb and he unclipped the puke from his belt.

"When I count to three, open the door," he instructed Coach with a calm voice that betrayed the excitement he felt for getting to use the contemptible concoction. The heavier man nodded and got ready. There was a short pause after Ellis brought his throwing arm back and then—"Three!"

Coach shoved open the door and Ellis lobbed the puke out just as the zombies poured in. Emily and Fiona moved away as the others protected themselves, impatient for the holy sound of breaking glass. In a few seconds, before anything bad could happen, there it was. The fumes filled the air at once, catching attention and pulling it away from them. The Infected hollered and spun on their heels towards the intoxicating scent. Coach yanked the door shut and backed away, breathing heavily with his hand over his chest. Behind the steel and stone of the building, they could still hear the muffled sound of enraged corpses attacking nothing but stink.

"Jesus," Nick mumbled and turned to Rochelle, "Nice thinking." She flashed a smile.

"Let's just keep going in case they remember we're in here," Coach said after catching his breath.

They got back into their previous formation and walked through the dark towards a light down a small flight of stairs. Careful of their footing in the dark and listening for more zombies, they went down one floor and stopped. There was a door to the outside on the right and there was a propane tank in the corner. But there were no zombies in sight. Worse, however, the awful cackling was much closer now, sounding like it was right next to them.

Ellis said, turning back, "Alright, so we're almost there; just a little farther." He led them out the door and into an alley. Parked under the bridge overhead was another truck and it blocked their view at first. Coach peeked around it and quickly hid again. There were about ten Commons wandering aimlessly in the street past the overpass. To the right, on the other side, was thick brush that surely held more zombies just waiting to tear them apart.

"Judging by how loud this bastard is," Nick pointed out, "Crazy is probably hiding in the bushes."

"Keep your eyes peeled," Rochelle said, "If it's as bad as that Charger, we don't want any surprises." When everyone agreed, then moved around the truck and attacked the zombies before they saw them. Five of them collapsed with bullet wounds and the others reached them in time to be hacked by axes.

Coach saved his shotgun shells, having run low, and moved with his back to the wall, facing the brush and ready for a surprise. Ellis was right next to him, pistols aimed at anything that even twitched. The laughter continued as more zombies burst through the brush and ran around it. Rochelle, Nick, and Fiona took them out gladly while Emily stayed behind. Her hands shook with the axe clasped in her white knuckles and her legs felt stiff. Still, she could not seem to swing at them, even as guilt ate at her for letting the others do all the work. Something just felt so wrong about killing what used to be alive and just watching made her heart ache in her chest.

"Come on out, you bastard!" Nick shouted at the bushes. Some of them rustled and shook, like an animal was scurrying around. The bushes rustled more and more before suddenly, something leapt out and ran at them. It was hunched over and small, with wrinkly bald skin and arms pulled up against its chest, like an ugly, humanoid raptor. Its deformed form moved so fast, no one could get a shot off successfully. Next thing they knew, the thing jumped onto Ellis and moved him away from the wall and towards the brush.

"Get this thing off! I can't see!" he screamed. For a moment, no one could move, too taken aback and disturbed by the sight.

"It ain't right for a man to be ridden like that…" Coach mumbled. The shock wore off quickly when the Jockey continued to make Ellis flail and stumble around. He was waving at it as it cackled nonstop and clung tight to his head. Coach cocked his shotgun and shot a shell at it when Ellis was lead into the right position to avoid injury. The bullet whizzed through the air and the Jockey's blood sprayed when it passed through its spiny back. With a last, wheezed laugh, it fell off Ellis and hit the ground.

A full body, violent shudder ran through Ellis as the Special Infected fell off him. He flailed again and turned around, stepping forward and spinning with a yelp. "Gah! Frikkin back-humper!"

Nick walked over to the fallen corpse with a bit of a dark smirk and a low chuckle. The hick, still letting out disgusted grunts and whines, was not as amused. He nudged the creature with his shoe as the others walked over as well. Emily looked at it and grimaced.

"**Jockey**," she explained, "They latch on and steer you into danger."

"So that's a Jockey, huh? Cute little guy."

Ellis stopped convulsing and looked at Nick, "Cute is not a word I'd use. It's just offensive what they do." Nick just smirked silently.

With the incident over and less time to waste, they moved around the vegetation and went under the bridge on the other side. There were concrete barriers put up, probably to stop traffic earlier so the officials could screen people for the flu. Other than a chain-link fence and some pipes, there was a huge dumpster blocking their path. Rochelle went to the side of it, cast in shade from the bridge.

"Here's a ladder," she pointed out. Careful of what was on the other side; she climbed up onto it and made room for the others. Luckily, the street on the other side was mostly empty; they hopped down, the boys first so they could make sure the girls got down flawlessly. They crossed the street, went up some stairs, and entered another building because more fences and concrete blocked the street.

In the corner of the dark room was a red, plastic container. Ellis' expression sweetened as he went over to it and picked it up, holding it out in his hands and grinning.

"Whew-ee! Gasoline!"

"I don't think that helps much without fire, Overalls." Nick shook his head.

"Anyone got a lighter?" Ellis asked. Everyone looked among themselves but then Fiona pulled a cheap one out of her back pocket. She handed it to Ellis.

"Knew it'd come in handy," she commented. He grinned and pocketed it, holding the can at his side.

They went up the stairs to the top floor and Ellis went over to the door outside because it was already open. There were no zombies on the walkway—it was a pedestrian bridge but the end that connected to a street was 100 percent blocked. Instead, a part of the railing had been knocked down, probably by something huge, and the street below was swarming with directionless undead. The sight only made him happier.

Inside, there was a table with some leftover ammo. Coach snatched up a few shells and Nick ditched his pistol for a new one with more bullets. Rochelle loaded her pistol and handed the last few bullets to Ellis and Fiona so they could do the same. Off to the side was a first-aid cabinet that Emily was rifling through. Most of it had been cleared out, but there were a few bottles of pain reliever she knew would come in handy. Fiona shoved the magazine back into the hilt, pulled the slide back, let it click back, and stood beside her friend.

"Pills? Good thinking, Emily," she said quietly, patting the girl on the back. Emily shoved the pills into her messenger bag with the other stuff and flashed a very small smile. She took her duty to the group very seriously, because she could not kill as they could. Survival was the only reason—Nick aside she suspected—but the idea did not change anything for her trembling hands.

"Alright, I'm gonna toss the can down and light it once we jump down," Ellis explained, "There's a truck below we can jump onto to get to the street. And we're almost to the gun store."

"Thank God," Rochelle sighed, "I'm sick of lugging this axe."

With Ellis in the lead, they followed his plan. He tossed the can under the bridge, drawing attention to them. The undead swarmed for the side of the truck, reaching up and clawing at the metal for their meal. Fiona looked over the edge of the truck, glowering about how high up they were, but Emily grabbed her hand and pulled her with her when they jumped onto the hood and then onto the street. Infected came at them, but Ellis had already tossed the flame over their heads and towards the spilt gasoline. Instantly, the flames spread through the rotting flesh and lit up the dark of the concretes' cast shadows.

"Run!" Coach ordered, already moving as fast as he could to escape the burning mess. Zombies, instead of trying to eat them, ran with them to get away from the fire, but their basic instincts made it easier for the survivors to take them out as they went. Soon, the only ones left were running around in a blaze of red heat like headless chickens. Not wanting to waste the adrenaline, they ran to the end of the street until they reached some stairs that led up to another building. It was there that they slowed to a walk again, hiking up the single flight and careful of anything at the top.

"That was a close one," Rochelle mused, "But great thinking, Ellis." He smiled bashfully and thanked her. They reached the top, glad that nothing was there, and continued around the side. They turned again into a little dark section with some stairs that led to another pedestrian bridge. Upon reaching the top, Ellis pointed through the fence at a little square of empty space between the building they were on and another, smaller, one.

"There it is. And the mall is just little further, so we're more than halfway there," he said. There was a collective groan of joy before they continued over the roof. Emily stopped before descending into the empty area and looked over the street. There was a little convenience store called "Save 4 Less" with a parking lot empty besides one car, and a tanker parked along a wall. Behind the wall and over the mart was a huge building she recognized immediately as the mall.

"There's the mall," the others stopped and looked back at her, "but how are we supposed to get through?"

"We could climb over, I think," Ellis pondered aloud, but Emily shook her head.

"We would have to go around." The group sighed and suddenly the detour had not been the best idea. "But I guess we're here already… so we should get guns and hurry up."

"Damn good idea. I want to get the Hell outta this place." Nick was very blatant about being stuck in Georgia, prompting Emily—and the others as well—to be all that more curious about his situation.

* * *

Whitaker's Gun Shop was not very big and the lighting was low, but the abundance of guns made the hillbilly in Ellis do back flips, cartwheels, and giggle like a Jockey on helium. Instantly, the young man was running around his personal candy store, staring into glass cases and touching things on the walls. Fiona walked with him, sharing an interest—although much less enthusiastic—in guns. She listened to him ramble about different statistics and mechanics of them.

"Everyone reload; we got shit to shoot," Nick said to everyone as they spread out.

Coach grabbed a tactical shotgun and let out a boyish giggle while loading it with new shells. Ellis was looking through the pistols and ended up with a Glock to go with the P220 in his other hand. On his back, he strapped on a hunting rifle for special use.

"Goin' for double pistols?" Fiona ventured, smiling.

Ellis grinned, "And I'mma snipe some sons-a-bitches."

Fiona picked up a silenced submachine gun and examined it. "Damned great idea. And I'll just mow 'em down." She grinned at him.

"I just wanna let you all know. I'm not legally allowed to own a gun… Hope everyone is okay with that." Nick lifted a very beautiful AK-47 while the others all turned to stare at him with disbelief, and maybe mistrust. Emily sighed and shook her head, setting her axe down on a glass counter.

"I don't think "legal" has much to do with anything nowadays," Coach muttered, shaking his head as well. He handed Emily something, taking her by surprise when she looked up at him. It was a chrome shotgun. She stared at him with disbelief.

"I-I can't—"

Coach shoved the gun into her unwilling hands, "you might hafta. Just keep it, just in case."

"You never know; you might need it, Sweetie," Rochelle added, smiling at her and holding a combat rifle. Emily did not smile back, biting her cheek.

"Have you ever shot a gun before?" Ellis asked, coming over with Fiona with a curious look.

"When I was younger. But…that's not…" She looked down and trailed off. Ellis did not seem to understand, so he changed the subject a little.

"Man," he said light-heartedly, "I learned how to shoot before I could walk. If you need some advice, just ask me." She smiled a little and thanked him quietly.

Out of the blue, another voice joined in, echoing through the shop through speakers built into the corners. Around a corner was a closed door and beside it was an intercom system.

"_Hello there," _the voice said, _"Now, normally when bloodstained looters break into my store, I would shoot them where they stand."_

"We're borrowing some guns, buddy," Nick cut in.

"We kind of need them, sir," Fiona added, brow furrowing slightly.

"_I'm guessing you all be heading to the evacuation center in the mall. I also guess you're gonna have a hell of time doing it, seeing as how those government fools blockaded the road getting there. But, you happen to have caught me at an opportune time. How about a proposition?"_

"What do you want?" Ellis asked.

"_I have barricaded myself on the roof with ample provisions. But in my haste, I forgot Cola. If you go find me some Cola from yonder food store, I'll clear the path to the mall for ya."_

"And if we refuse and just take these guns?" Nick challenged him, set on not doing a damn thing for anyone without reason.

"_You could try. I own a _lot_ of guns, son."_

"We _do_ need a path to the mall," Emily stated, aimed at Nick, "It's not that bad of an idea."

"I have never killed zombies on a snack run, but today is a day of firsts. If you don't mind us using your guns to do it, we're good to go," Coach said. Nick pouted with disdain and stared at him with displeasure. "Nick, don't give me that look. Cola and nuts might be this man's last meal. We can't deny him that. We get him snacks, he helps us. I'm good with it."

"_Procure my colas and my help is guaranteed, sir. Consider the guns a generous donation to the cause."_

"Man, this guy is weird," Ellis mumbled. The door swung open and daylight spilled in from the top of some stairs.

"_Oh, and other thing,"_ Whitaker added suddenly, _"The store has a nice, little alarm system. Ya had better hurry it up. I'll cover you."_

* * *

They stood outside the glass doors in silence, contemplating just how great of an idea it was to set off an alarm for some wacko's Cola. But they needed a way to the mall and the tanker was the only obstacle. When they looked up at Whitaker's window, they saw his silhouette watching them carefully. There was also the glint of sunlight on a sniper rifle muzzle tracking them just as carefully.

"When I open this door, the alarm is gonna alert all the Infected in the area," Coach stated the obvious to make sure everyone was clear, "Rochelle and Emily, you run in and grab the Cola while we keep the coast clear. Then we'll run back, use that van to get over that concrete there, run up the stairs, and put the Cola through that door for ol' Whitaker." Everyone agreed with the plan, so Coach grabbed the door handles and counted down from three.

"Three… Two…One!"

The ringing was loud and obnoxious, meaning it did its job perfectly. Rochelle and Emily ran into the dark store, jumping over fallen boxes and shelves, coughing from dust, and looking around wildly for the soda aisle. Outside, the others had their new guns ready for taking out the roaring horde that quickly closed in on them.

"Here!" Emily called to Rochelle, who was looking in another section, "I found Cola!"

"Alright! Grab it and let's go!" Emily snatched up the case of soda, hoping it was suitable, and ran back outside. The group was being bombarded with a rapid stream of zombies, all gnashing their teeth and biting at them.

"Stay right beside me, Emily. We'll cover you," Fiona instructed, showing off her new gun with pride.

Moving as fast as their tired legs could carry them, they ran through the crowd, across the parking lot, and jumped onto the hood of a van parked next to a ledge. It was quicker than going around, so they climbed the white van, crawled onto the dirt where some dead plants lied, and ran for the stairs. Behind her, Emily heard automatic rifles and pistols going off, followed by waves of undead falling to the ground.

"Up, up!" Nick's hand was pressed to her back, pushing her up the stairs as if she was not going as fast as she could already. With the messenger bag around her shoulder and bouncing on her leg, it was difficult enough. But adrenaline outweighed annoyance, so she jumped the top step and spun on the sole of her foot, and ran to the safe room door Whitaker had made himself. Breathing heavily and shaking, she smacked the slot. After a brief second, it shot open.

"_Quick, put it in the slot."_ She shoved the 6-pack into the slot and watched it shut again. _"Thank you for that! Now, turn around. Y'all ever see a tanker explode?"_ Emily blinked, everyone paused, and then they all turned in time to see the tanker that had blocked their way erupt into a giant ball of fire. The sound echoed for miles it seemed and the force made them stumble backwards a little. Corpses, rubble, and fire spread out across the roof of the Save 4 Less and parking lot. The small number of Infected left were shot down by lethal spray from Nick's AK-42.

"Wh-whoa." Fiona stared at the rubble for a moment.

Emily gulped and whispered to everyone, "I think I might have grabbed diet. We should get out of here." Rochelle smiled, finding it rather humorous.

"Hey, thanks, mister!" she said through the door. They started for their new path, knowing the alarm would not stop on its own until later.

"_Best of luck, gang. Take good care of those guns!"_

**There were only a few mistakes this time. Just more inventory and sentence structure. - Sabu [July 17, 2012]**


End file.
